


La Vie En Rose

by WildwingSuz



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:05:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildwingSuz/pseuds/WildwingSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind the scenes of Season 10.  The Mulder and Scully you didn’t see on screen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	La Vie En Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: From the first episode of S10 I had an idea for a story, and the day after My Struggle II aired I sat down and started working on this. For the record, I hate that they were broken up in the revival—I mean, what two people deserve to be happy together more than Mulder and Scully?!—but knew I could work with it. And to Chris Carter I say: phooey! Phooey, sir, do you hear me?
> 
> The title is from the Louis Armstrong song of the same name.
> 
> Spoilers: All six episodes of Season 10. You should have seen them to understand this as it takes place during that six-week period.
> 
> Rating: NC-17. Very NC-17.
> 
> As always, I only borrowed them to play for a short time, I’m sure they’re back where they belong by now.

For my friend Meggles, whose ethereal drawings continue to light my creative fire

And for my wonderful beta reader Mimic117, who made my day/week/month/year

 

 

 **La Vie En Rose**  
by Suzanne Feld 

 

Hold me close and hold me fast  
The magic spell you cast  
This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me, heaven sighs  
And though I close my eyes  
I see la vie en rose

When you press me to your heart  
I'm in a world apart  
A world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels, sing from above  
Everyday words seem  
To turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me  
And life will always be  
La vie en rose

\-- Guglielmi, Luis Guglielmo/Gassion, Edith Giovanna/David, Mack

 

  
  


It was déjà vu, only seven years apart.  He drove her crazy, always had, always would, in more ways than one.  But she could never resist him, not from the day they met.

 

That time was before he fell into a serious depression that not only threatened his life, but hers as well.  The rages, the silences, the messes and destruction, the total irrationality of their lives so suddenly after years of calm.  The FBI had cleared Mulder and he thought that he would suddenly be back in demand.   But the truth was that not only wasn’t he wanted, no one seemed to remember him much at all.  Old Spooky, both a joke and a legend but barely remembered either way.  The truth _was_ out there, and it was that he had spent a decade of his life becoming a forgotten joke.  To discover that had nearly been his undoing.

 

Love, she thought, did _not_ mean never having to say you were sorry.  It meant far too many sorrys, too many desperate apologies and excuses until they no longer meant anything.

 

She looked up at the familiar, striking face of the man above her, still floating in the euphoria of her orgasm as he worked towards his, their bodies slamming together with wet slaps as he filled her over and over.  His powerful arms held him up, her legs around his hips keeping him anchored to her.  They had been making love for some time and were, as she always felt melancholy thinking about, winding down to the big finale.

 

The adoration she had never stopped feeling for him filled her heart as she watched his long, lean body working over her and she let go of one muscular forearm and reached up to brush a hand over the side of his sweat-dappled face, feeling the rough stubble there.  He gazed down at her with dark eyes slitted in concentration, the big muscle in his jaw flexing and the vein in his forehead protruding, and turned his head to kiss her palm.  “Love you, Scully,” he rasped, not missing a stroke as he pumped into her. 

 

“Ah, God, love you too,” she managed to breathe, feeling almost overwhelmed by the intense sensations racing through her.  How could she feel so much for someone, desire him to the point of distraction, but not be able to live with him?  She had fooled herself into thinking that she’d been over him until she’d seen him again for the first time in nearly a year, and then she knew she was lost. That night had been the first they’d spent together in months, since she had moved out, and they had most certainly made up for lost time.  If they were both a bit haggard and walking a little funny the next day it was well worth it, she thought with a mental smile.  That was the main reason she was so annoyed when Sveta had appeared at Mulder’s door the next evening… she knew she wasn’t getting any that night.

 

But this was not the time to be thinking of that and, instead, she turned her full attention to the man thrusting into her.  Though she had just finished, she felt her arousal rising again as he pumped in and out of her, his considerable cock as always driving her higher and higher.  She shifted her grip from his arms to his waist, pulling him against her even harder than he was pounding into her.  He suddenly dropped down onto her, pushing her knees even higher with his elbows, and cupped her head in his big, warm hands as he kissed her temple, not missing a stroke.  She grabbed his wrist with one hand, the other still on his lean waist and urging him on. 

 

The feel of his big, muscular body moving so strongly against hers and pushing his large cock into her, as well as her legs spread wide by the new position and his chest hair rubbing her nipples, took her over within moments and she cried out again as another orgasm swept over and through her, even more intense and sharper than the first.  “Fuck, I love making you come,” he rasped, and then inhaled sharply and froze against her, his entire body jerking and shuddering as he groaned out his completion in the hair over her temple. 

 

Usually he rolled off and pulled her over against him, but this time Mulder leaned down and kissed her deeply and thoroughly before resting his forehead against hers, panting.  They were still joined, though she could feel him softening inside her.  Her legs were beginning to cramp so she pushed her knees lightly against his lean ribs, and he moved just enough so that she could straighten them out, stretching his legs back as well.  He stayed on top of her, sliding his arms beneath her shoulders and cupping her trapezius muscles from behind, using his elbows to keep his weight from crushing her.  He kissed her again, not as hard but with clear emotion, showing how he felt about her with lips and tongue caressing hers.  Though she was beginning to feel uncomfortable Scully could do nothing but kiss him back, their tongues meeting and rubbing against each other, tangling her arms around his neck to pull him closer.  God, how she loved to kiss him.

 

This time when they broke the kiss he moved off, both of them groaning as he slid wetly from her body, and flopped to his back next to her, then tugged her over to lay on her side close by him.  “God-damn, but we’re good at that,” he said in a lazily satisfied voice.  “Never been as good for me other than with you, Scully.”

 

“Same here,” she murmured, punching the pillow beneath her head and snuggling down into it.  The room was at a comfortable temperature and she felt no need for covers as she floated in a completely fulfilled daze.  She had one arm across his chest and a leg over his thigh and though their bodies weren’t quite touching anywhere else, she could feel his warmth radiating against her cooling skin.  “You don’t have to leave, do you?”

 

“Nah, I can stay the night s’long as I get up early and go home to change,” he rumbled, putting one big hand on her smooth thigh just above where her knee rested on him.  “But I might have a lead on a new case tomorrow about a scientist who appears to have committed suicide for no apparent reason—and in a rather inimitable way.”

 

“Mmnn.  Tell me about it in the morning,” she murmured, beginning to doze.  “Tonight, sleep.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he said in a clearly amused voice, and that was all she remembered until she woke alone the next morning. 

 

Bolting upright in the bed, she saw from the travel clock on the nightstand that it was nearly eight o’clock and swore aloud, throwing off the covers that she didn’t remember pulling over herself the night before; apparently Mulder had while she was sleeping.  Then she saw the folded piece of paper and carried it into the bathroom with her, reading it as she used the toilet.

 

“Scully—no need for you to come in early, enjoy some extra sleep and I’ll see you later.  Damn, you’re amazing. --M”

 

Shaking her head, smiling, Scully tossed the note in the bathroom trash and started the shower.  Maybe sleeping with the boss wasn’t such a bad thing, she thought with some amusement, though he was only her superior by length of time with the Bureau.  Too bad that didn’t reset when they got rehired, she mused.  Perhaps then she’d finally have gotten her name on the damn door.

 

When she was ready to go, Scully took one last look around the suite to see if she was forgetting anything.  She’d been living in the Hilton Gardens for nearly a year since leaving Mulder, and didn’t let herself think about why she wasn’t getting an apartment.  When she’d had a hectic schedule at the hospital it had made sense to live in an extended-stay hotel and the cost wasn’t all that much more than her old apartment in Georgetown had been, but now back on the X-Files she spent much more time away from work than she had at Our Lady of Sorrows.  Perhaps that was why, she thought, they seemed to find their way over to each other’s place most evenings just recently.

 

*           *           *

 

The next few weeks they spent almost every night together when they were in town, human-lizard-monsters and simulated magic mushrooms notwithstanding.  Scully made them stick to their years-old deal of not doing anything while out of town on a case—she’d had nightmares about them getting caught _in flagrante delicto_ in a motel since they’d first started sleeping together—but when they were in town, all bets were off. 

 

It was just a few days after the terrorist case when Scully found herself driving up to Mulder’s—formerly their—remote farmhouse.  She was buffeted by years’ worth of memories every time she came here, unfortunately most of them melancholy and depressing.  They’d also had many good times in the years they’d lived here together but sometimes they were difficult to remember, being overlaid by her having to deal with Mulder’s increasingly dangerous mental state over the past seven years.  And yet… she still needed him like the very air she needed to breathe to live.  So here she was again, carrying a bottle of wine up the stairs to a house she had very mixed feelings about.  She hadn’t planned on coming here tonight, but sitting alone in her sterile hotel room was not acceptable when she knew where she really wanted to be.

 

She opened the screen door and walked in without knocking, finding Mulder sitting at the small wooden kitchen table with a couple of manila folders open in front of him, a dirty plate and fork pushed off to the side.  From the looks of it Mulder was living on Banquet pot pies again, Scully thought.  Maybe tomorrow she could take him out for a decent lunch or dinner that wasn’t previously frozen, or delivered.

 

He looked up and smiled, appearing twenty years younger in that moment, more like the bright-eyed young agent she’d first met in a dingy basement office so long ago than the careworn, mentally damaged middle-aged man he was now—as he had reminded her several times.  “I hope you’ve already had dinner, Scully, I just finished mine.”

 

She raised the blue glass bottle.  “Yep. I bring libations.”

 

“In that case, welcome back to your former home,” he said, waving one arm about expansively, still smiling a little sadly.  She knew he didn’t mean it to hurt or bring up old arguments or blame her for leaving; they had made their peace with that since the X-Files came back into their lives.  No, he was pointing out how nice the house looked, that he had been keeping it up since she left.  It was unlike the last few months she’d lived there when he was in the depths of his depression and refusing to get help for it.  There were a few dirty dishes in the sink and the one on the table, but other than that there were no messes, the once-scattered stacks of paper and magazines delegated to the neat rows of boxes against the living room walls, and she was sure that when—not if, when—they went upstairs she would find the bed made and the bathroom just as clean.  Mulder had never been the world’s best housekeeper but she knew she couldn’t take it any longer the day she came home after an eighteen-hour shift and found him passed out on the couch, drunk, with the kitchen garbage stinking and overflowing because he hadn’t gone to the dump, no food in the refrigerator never mind dinner ready for her as per their agreement, and the house such a mess that she had to kick drifts of paper and soiled clothing out of her way to get inside.  She had been so busy at the hospital for weeks that she hadn’t let herself notice how bad it was getting until it was out of control, and by then it was too late. Two days later she had moved out.

 

“Looks good,” she smiled, glancing around as she neared the table.  “Even better than your old bachelor pad back in D.C.”

 

He grinned again as she set the bottle on the table then pulled out a chair, looking down at the papers he had spread open in front of him; even upside-down she recognized the old cases.  A mild breeze gusted through the open kitchen window, belling out the curtains and rustling the papers, bringing the green and fecund scent of the country that she’d missed since living in the city again.  “Werewolves and shapeshifters?  Didn’t Guy Mann convince you that they exist?”

 

“He did, he did,” Mulder nodded, flipping both folders closed.  Then he got up and brought back wineglasses and the corkscrew to open and pour the wine.  He had never fallen into full-blown alcoholism despite his years of heavy drinking after the Russian head-swapping case, thank God, and was fine with social drinking now and then.  Which worked well for her because with their recent crazy schedule and cases she needed a glass of wine now and then.  “That’s why I’m going back over some of our old case files, to see which ones might have been real.  We never did find out what those, uh, entities in the Florida forest were.”

 

Scully accepted her wineglass with a nod of thanks, and then took a sip of the merlot.  Though she preferred white wine in general she knew Mulder liked red, and this one in particular.  It was what he’d had in the house the first time she’d crawled into his bed.  The taste brought back memories of days spent in bed drinking it between bouts of lovemaking when they had first gotten together, trading the essence back and forth while kissing, the rich notes surrounding them as they breathed it on each other.  Though she hadn’t necessarily come over tonight for a booty call—though that had been in the back of her mind, let’s be honest—now there was no doubt about it as her body came alive with the memories of his touch and what they did to each other along with the bouquet of the lush wine.  Although they hadn’t talked about where their relationship was going these days, she had no problem with resuming their sexual liaisons until they did address it.

 

“The ones that had the bodies stacked up in the cave?”  At Mulder’s nod she continued, “Are you thinking that was whatever Guy is?”

 

“What? No.  No.  He’s an insectivore, or so he told me.” Mulder got up again and this time took his plate to the sink, rinsing it and his fork off before setting them in the basin with the others.  Then he turned around and leaned back against the sink, hands on the porcelain rim behind him.  The position pulled his black t-shirt, long sleeves pushed up to his elbows, tight against his broad, muscular chest and taut abs, and she eyed the display with interest.  “Whatever those things were, they weren’t—“

 

“But they didn’t eat the people they killed, they just removed them from the equation to protect themselves,” Scully pointed out, idly twirling the stem of her wineglass and watching the dark red liquid swirl against the crystal.  If she didn’t stop looking at him she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.  “And didn’t you say they hibernated for ten thousand years?”

 

Mulder huffed with amusement, leaning forward to get his wineglass from the table and taking a sip.  “I don’t think Guy was adding that up quite right.  Besides, the Florida case was ten years ago, so would they even have been awake?”

 

“Did Guy tell you how long he’d been out of hibernation?”  She looked up again to see that he now had his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the sink with one bare foot crossed over the other, the wide-hipped glass dangling from the fingers of one hand beneath his elbow.

 

“Eh, no.  I guess it could have been the same creatures, at that, but—“

 

Mulder’s voice was cut off as Scully sealed her mouth over his.  While he was talking she had decided that this was enough waiting.  If she was being honest with herself then there was really only one reason she was here, and why risk waiting any longer and possibly getting interrupted before things got good?  Work, and life, had a way of cock-blocking them.  So she simply got up and jumped him, leaving her wineglass on the table and taking his out of his hand, setting it on the counter behind him as she kissed him with every bit of intent in her small body.  Mulder wasn’t slow on the uptake and clearly didn’t mind having their conversation interrupted as he swept his arms around her and pulled her tight against his broad chest, kissing her back enthusiastically.  Still tangled together they stumbled into the other room, falling on the overstuffed tan couch without missing a beat as she kicked off her shoes and straddled his lap, wrapping her arms around his head as they continued kissing. She remembered sitting here just a couple of weeks ago, legs properly crossed and undoubtedly the very picture of ladylike correctness, Tad O’Malley on the other end, as if she and Mulder hadn’t fucked like mad spring bunnies on it just the night before.

 

The couch wasn’t her favorite place as it smacked too much of furtive teenage trysts keeping one ear out for car doors slamming, but Mulder never cared where they were once they got started and very often she didn’t either.  For now, however, it was fine with her; she sat up in his lap and tugged his long-sleeved t-shirt off, running her hands over the powerful muscles in his chest and shoulders that she had been eyeing earlier; it was good to see that he was working out again.  His lean, muscular body turned her on almost as much as his frighteningly intelligent mind did.

 

He was no slouch in the touching department himself, already having unbuttoned and put his hands down the back of her dark blue slacks, cupping the cheeks of her ass beneath the thin nylon of her panties.  “Use me and abuse me, baby,” he murmured, resting his head against the back of the couch and watching her through half-closed eyes.  Unable to resist, she ran her hands down the hard, toned biceps of his arms and leaned forward to begin kissing his neck, feeling the deep rumbling of his low groans as she worked her way up to his ear, tugging on the lobe lightly with her teeth then running her tongue around the outside swirls.  “Jesus, you really know how to get me going,” he gasped, then pulled her tight against his body so that she could feel the large, hot lump of his fully hard cock against her despite the layers of clothing.  He reached further down with one hand between her spread-open legs and stroked her labia from behind, not quite able to reach far enough to put a finger in her, but rubbing her opening and generating even more moisture than she was already making.

 

“That’s my intent,” she breathed with a moan, using her knees to lift and rub her body against his, unintentionally giving him more reach down between her legs, putting her arms around his neck.  He loosened his grasp just enough so that he could turn his head and find her lips, and they kissed madly as she rubbed herself against him while he pushed his cock against her, exploring her labia as much as he could in this awkward position.  The friction in both places was delightful but the clothes annoying, so finally Scully broke the kiss, inhaling the sweet wine fumes he was breathing into her face, and braced her forearms against his collarbones, resting her forehead against his as she felt her body burn for him.  “Aren’t we over dressed for this party, as you told me at least once before?”

 

He chuffed a laugh, sliding his hands out of her pants and lifting them to the buttons of her light blue blouse even as she sat back on his knees and reached down to tug it out of her unzipped pants.  “Never argue with the lady, that’s my motto,” he said as he slipped the small buttons through the holes, then spread her blouse wide, pushing it back on her arms, and leaned forward to nuzzle the tops of her breasts above the white lace of her bra.  “Any other requests?”

 

“You haven’t finished the first one yet,” she said with amusement, shrugging out of her blouse.  As she did so she turned a little and noted that the front door was still wide open, and anyone could see them through the screen.  “Uh, Mulder, you might want to close the door if we’re going to take this any further.”

 

He lifted his head with a low groan, raising his hands to cup her breasts through the bra.  “Do you have to be so practical?”

 

“You’d rather Tad O’Malley or Skinner saw us banging on the couch?” she said, exasperated, as she swung her leg off and stood, clutching her blouse to her chest. 

 

“ _Miss_ Scully!  Language!” he laughed as he crossed the living room to the door bare-chested and swung the solid oak panel closed, locking it for good measure.  When he turned around, she had disappeared and for a moment he was concerned, then he realized where she’d gone.  And it wasn’t out the back door, nosiree, not with the delicious scent of arousal that had been wafting from her for the last few minutes.  Speaking of… he lifted his hand to his nose and inhaled, enjoying that rich, musky woman-scent--especially because it was Scully’s--after such a long drought.

 

He took the stairs two at a time, and then grinned as he swung around the doorway into the bedroom with a hand on the sill, noting that one of the bedside lamps was on.  Sure enough, Scully was draped across the neatly-made bed on her stomach _au natural_ , picking idly at one of the maybe-UFOs maybe-crop circles on the quilt he’d picked out for their bed years ago when they’d first bought this house.  He took a moment to enjoy the sight of her delicately curved bare bottom and slender, pearly shoulders, and then moved into the room and shed the rest of his clothes.  He left them where they fell even though hers were neatly tossed over the straight-backed chair on the other side of the dresser.  As he approached she rolled onto her side, scooting around and propping her head on one hand, and then smiled lazily up at him.  He loved how totally unconcerned with nudity she was when they were together; so many women had body issues but if she did, she hid them well.  “So you found me.  Now I see how you got to be the wunderkind profiler.”

 

Kneeling on the edge of the bed, his steel-hard cock leading the way, he reached out and ran a hand from her softly curving hip to down her thigh to her knee.  How he loved the feminine delicateness of her which hid her toughness so well; every time he thought about her disarming and taking down that dirtbag in the abandoned factory he got hard.  “Nothing gets past me, baby,” he said in a deep exaggerated voice, going for Bogie but suspecting he sounded more like he had a cold.  Dropping the act, he swung around and stretched out next to her so that they lay face-to-face. He put one hand on her hip to draw her closer, enjoying how dark he looked against her porcelain skin and the size of his hand upon her delicate body, even as she reached up to cup his neck right below his jaw.  “I’m glad you’re here,” he said simply without thinking, looking down into her clear blue eyes.

 

“So am I,” she replied, gazing back up at him with such love and desire that he felt his breath catch in his throat.  Though he had been trying to keep things casual between them, not pressure or push her too much, he almost lost it at the look in her eyes for him.  This was what they’d once had, this deep connection, before he’d totally fucked it up.  Hopefully he was undoing the harm he’d caused over the last few years to repair their badly damaged, but hopefully not completely severed, relationship.  “I miss you, Mulder, and I hadn’t realized just how much until I saw you getting out of that car in downtown D.C.”

 

It was on the tip of his tongue to beg her to move back in, to share her life with him again, and yet he was afraid that if he did so she might get up and leave, probably not wanting to hear it, happy with their present arrangement.  But what _did_ they have?  Were they now just friends with benefits, fuck-buddies?  At their ages, with all the years together behind them, it was a little ridiculous but if that was all she permitted them to have at this point, he would take it.  He wanted more but suspected that to push her was to lose her.  If you love something let it go and see if it comes back to you, he thought hazily through the emotions and physical sensations roiling through him.  “I’ve never stopped missing you, Scully, and I thank whatever deities there may be that you’ve decided to come back into my life, no matter how or why,” he said on the edge of honesty.  “Now, unless you’ve got other plans for the evening, I’m going to fuck you until we’re both walking funny again.”

 

She shivered, her eyes going a darker shade of periwinkle blue.  “Walking normally is overrated anyway.”

 

“Couldn’t agree more,” he rasped before falling on her mouth, kissing her with everything he felt even as his hands went straight for her tits after being interrupted downstairs.  He brushed his thumbs over her taut nipples and loved the strangled groan she let into his mouth, biting down gently on her tongue then sucking on it.  He was so hard he felt like he was going to burst through his own skin but he refused to be rushed; their first time back together just a few weeks ago had been much like their first time ever, both of them so anxious to make it a _fait accompli_ that thery had pretty much gone right at it.  But after that he’d made up for the quickness of their first coupling with enough foreplay to drive them both insane.  They had no reason to hurry tonight, and he wanted to enjoy being with her as long as he could since who knew if she’d be back tomorrow night, or when.  He began to kiss down her body, taking a detour to suck on her nipples before moving much further south. 

 

Some time later she cried out sharply, her back arching and brushing her torso against his above her, breathing his name then groaning, “Inside me now, dammit!  God how you drive me crazy.”

 

With a satisfied grin, unobtrusively wiping her juices from his face with the back of one hand, Mulder turned around and crawled up the bed next to her as she rolled on her side to face him.  They had been sixty-nining and competing as they always did, Scully trying to stave off her orgasm while giving him a blow job and Mulder doing his damndest to make her come while holding off his.  Sometimes he couldn’t and things ended a bit prematurely, but neither of them ever complained.  Not this time, however.  No, right now he was primed and ready to take this session to the next level.

 

He laid down facing her, pulling her lower knee up against his hip and then slid between her legs, tugging her other one over his ass.  He had to lean back on one arm to line up with her, then thrust his hips forward as he wrapped the other arm around her waist to pull her against him again so they were touching from pubes to chest.  “Ohhhh Jesus,” she warbled as he slid into her with a deep groan, the tight walls of her vagina feeling like they were coated with hot oil.  She threw her head back and he took the opportunity to lean forward and suck on the front of her neck with soft lips, though careful not to leave a mark as she was firm about no hickeys.  She moaned and pushed her hips towards him, though she had limited mobility in this face-to-face position. 

 

He thrust a few times, but the angle was shallow and not quite satisfying.  She brought her head down and they were eye to eye, the discrepancy in their heights working well in this position.  Scully leaned forward to kiss him briefly, and then let her head drop back to the bed and reached up to run her fingers over his lips, then chin.  He took ahold of her wrist, holding her eyes with his, and kissed her palm, snaking his tongue out for a quick lick that made her shudder and her vaginal walls clamp down on him for a moment.  “God, Scully, I’m not going to last long if you keep doing that,” he groaned, resting his forehead against hers.  She curled her other hand around the back of his neck, scraping her nails lightly just below his hairline.

 

“I love it when you taste me,” she breathed, the fingers of her other hand roaming gently over his face again. “No matter where.”

 

He turned his head and kissed her lightly, thrusting again even as his tongue caressed her swollen lips.  “I love to taste you, everywhere,” he murmured, shifting a little to see if he could get better contact, and inadvertently pulling himself out of her.  They both groaned at the loss.  “Ah, shit, sorry.”  That position, nice as it felt, wasn’t doing the trick so he rolled onto his back and tugged her over on top of him.  “This should work a little better.”

 

“Mmn, I don’t mind driving,” she murmured, sitting back and reaching between her legs to grasp him, then leaning forward and rubbing the head of his cock against her labia before beginning to push down on him.  He breathed out a low, deep moan as her heat surrounded and encased him, watching avidly while his cock disappeared into her body as she sat up again and put her hands on her bare thighs.  Using just her legs she began to raise and lower herself, moaning softly as she rode him.  He grasped her knees and pushed back at her as she came down, and the jolt when they came together was sheer ecstasy.   So he did it again, and again.

 

It wasn’t long before she leaned forward, propping herself up with one arm, the other hand sliding around his neck as she leaned in for a kiss.  She was moving up and down on him only slightly as their lips met and it was exquisite torture, but one that Mulder enjoyed.  He tangled one hand in her hair, the other going to her hip and progressively encouraging her movements.  She broke the kiss hesitantly, nibbling at his lips as she moved away, but only far enough that they could look at each other.  Even in the dim light he could see the way she was looking at him, a way that he hadn’t seen in too long and had been afraid he’d never see again.  Like he was her everything; exactly the way he felt about her.  “I can’t get enough of you, Mulder, you drive me crazy,” she whispered, her lips brushing his.  “You make me forget everything but you.”

 

“Ah, God, you do the same to me,” he said, gazing up into her desire-darkened eyes.  Sometimes he thought his heart would burst out of his chest with love for this incredible woman and hoped he was showing her that with his eyes.  “I could spend the rest of my life in this moment, with you.”

 

Her thumb stroked the side of his jaw, fingers tightening on the back of his neck as she began to rock on him, lifting herself with her legs and making her strokes long and gradual, both of them beginning to pant.  “I’m getting close,” she breathed, dipping in for a quick kiss then leaning back just enough to see him again, her eyes holding his.  “Come with me, Mulder?”

 

“I’ll do my best,” he groaned as she sped up, feeling his balls tighten which was the first sign of his impending orgasm.  “You’ve got me almost past the point of no return now.  Jesus, you are stunning sexy, woman.”

 

“Ahhh…. Ah, here it comes,” she moaned and he watched, fascinated, as her face contracted in pleasure and her entire body shuddered, and then her vaginal walls compressed around his cock.  He totally lost it as his own orgasm swept over him.  Clamping his eyes shut, he cried out her name and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her down onto him and thrusting up into her until he was empty. 

 

Slowly he relaxed, coming down from his orgasmic haze to realize that her body was draped over him from shoulder to hip, her head on the pillow beside his, panting warm breath on his sweaty neck.  “Jesus, Scully, I swear we get better every time,” he murmured, loosening his arms from around her shoulders and moving his hands to rest lightly on her hips.  “You are just fucking amazing.”

 

“ _We_ are,” she mumbled against his neck.  She felt like she didn’t have a bone in her body, an amoeba about to melt into the warm, hard frame below her.  Though it wasn’t a valid scientific comparison, it worked for now.  But she knew that if she didn’t move soon she really would fall asleep on top of him; it wouldn’t be the first time, far from it, but tonight it wasn’t feasible.  She allowed herself to enjoy it for just a few moments more, reveling in the feel of his hard, strong body at rest beneath hers.  Finally, with a sigh, she lifted herself up on her arms, bracing her hands on either side of his head, and smiled down at him.  He blinked sleepily up at her, returning her smile with a lopsided one of his own.

 

“Staying tonight?” he asked in a sleepy voice.  “I have a meeting in the morning but not a problem.”

 

“Can’t, didn’t bring my overnight bag and don’t have anything here to wear—your jersey notwithstanding,” she said, referring to the shirt of his she’d borrowed to sleep in while they were on the road just a few weeks ago when she’d forgotten her pajamas. “Think I might raise a few eyebrows if I showed up for work in it.”

 

He leaned down and lazily squeezed her ass.  “Don’t hear me complaining.”

 

She bent down and rubbed her nose against his.  “Skinner wouldn’t either, I’m sure.”

 

He growled and swatted her butt none-too-gently, then let both of his arms fall to the side.  “A sight he’d damned well better never see.”

 

“You can count on that.”  Scully kissed him briefly but meaningfully then climbed off of him, both of them making disappointed noises as he slid out of her, soft but still with some length. 

 

She scooped her clothes up from the chair and headed into the bathroom, tickled to find it as clean as she’d hoped, and let herself bask in the afterglow of their mind-blowing lovemaking as she cleaned up and dressed.  When she walked back into the bedroom Mulder was out like a light, snoring softly sprawled on his back on top of the now-mussed quilt.  She took a moment to enjoy the sight; for a man on the far side of fifty he looked amazing, tight and toned with the stamina of someone half his age. 

 

She didn’t want to wake him and so picked up his dirty clothes and put them in the hamper out of sheer habit, tossed the half of the quilt he wasn’t laying on over his supine form, then went quietly downstairs.  This situation smacked of their first time, when she’d crawled into his bed and then left before he woke, and they hadn’t talked about it for days afterward.  But this time… Scully smiled to herself as she sat down on the couch and pulled her shoes on.  No, this time was going to be a lot different.  One thing she had realized over the last few weeks was that Mulder was well on the way to once again becoming the man she’d fallen in love with all those years ago, in fact had never fallen out of love with—only got disillusioned with as he fell into a deep depression from feeling useless and unwanted, which he wasn’t anymore.  He had found himself again, and having a purpose was healing him.  It was time, she thought as her heart lifted, that she returned to her real home—and it wasn’t that cold, impersonal hotel suite.  It would, she knew, truly make Mulder’s day if she started their morning by asking if he was ready for her to move back in. 

 

She drove back to the hotel with an unconscious smile on her face, imagining Mulder’s reaction when she told him.  It might be, she mused, the first time they broke their rule about not fooling around at the office.  It would, in fact, be about time.

 

 

 

_finis_

 


End file.
